


The Demon Drink

by nattiecake08



Category: Grantchester (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Panic Attacks, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 08:54:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29365827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nattiecake08/pseuds/nattiecake08
Summary: With him and Amanda finished, Sidney starts relying increasingly on alcohol as a crutch. Leonard faces uncomfortable memories of his father, and tensions mount.
Relationships: Leonard Finch/Daniel Marlowe
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	The Demon Drink

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to K for my first ever prompt, I hope I did it justice! 🥰
> 
> “I had the idea of Leonard possibly being uncomfortable with Sidney’s drinking because of his experiences with his father, tensions build, and the two of them get into a fight over it. Then maybe Leonard could go to Daniel for comfort/ to talk it out. It would be nice if Sidney and Leonard made up as well.”
> 
> So this is set between series 3 and 4, after Mrs M and Jack’s wedding, but before Sidney meets Violet.

Leonard had always known Sidney had a problem with alcohol. Mrs M - no, Mrs C, had told him as much when he first moved into the vicarage.

But ever since he and Amanda had finally disembarked from their merry-go-round he had been drinking even  more heavily, and it was making Leonard more than a little uncomfortable. At least he was now able to retreat and visit his beloved when it brought back too many memories.

—

“You won’t find the answer at the bottom of that glass”, Leonard observed wryly, looking up from his Sunday school lesson plan to the sight of Sidney draining his whisky tumbler for a second time. 

“I’m nursing a broken heart, Leonard, let me be.” Sidney grumbled, resting his head on his arms as the strains of Bechet echoed around the room. “I get enough disapproval from Mrs C, I don’t need it from you too.”

“I just think it will make you feel even worse - physically and mentally,” Leonard said, eyes full of sincere concern that gave Sidney a pang of guilt. 

“I’m a big boy, I can handle myself. But thanks,” he replied, giving Leonard a pat on the shoulder as he walked past. 

Leonard let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

—

Sidney was so hungover the following Tuesday morning that he couldn’t be roused for the parish council meeting, forcing Leonard to splutter out a half-baked excuse to the Archdeacon on his behalf.

Yes, Sidney had always drank. But now Leonard was having to pick up more and more of his work. It wasn’t fair. It was like he was a child again, keeping house while his father sat in a drunken stupor, gaze fixed on the floor. Still, that was better than when he turned his attention on Leonard.

Sidney eventually graced them with his presence at lunchtime, shuffling into the kitchen in all his dishevelled glory.

“Afternoon,” Mrs C chided, shoving a ham sandwich in front of him. She was rewarded with a grunt.

“Sidney, you haven’t forgotten you’re meeting the Robertsons to discuss the funeral at 2?” Leonard broached carefully.

Sidney groaned. “You wouldn’t be able to cover for me, would you?” he asked blearily.

“No.” Leonard replied shortly. “I’m relieving Mr Brown from his mother’s bedside.  _I_ don’t like to let people down. Besides, I think funeral arrangements are more the vicar’s remit...”

“You’re my curate and you’ll do whatever work I bloody tell you to!” Sidney shot back. 

Leonard froze. 

“Don’t you dare speak to him like that, Mr Chambers!” Mrs C scolded, hand protectively on Leonard’s shoulder. 

Leonard shook his head hurriedly. “No, no, it’s okay Mrs C, Sidney’s right, he’s my superior,” he stammered, scraping his chair back.

“Leonard, I’m sorry, I’ve just got a splitting headache, I didn’t mean it like that-“ Sidney backtracked, eyes wide with guilt.

“It’s alright, really,” Leonard said, but he was already out the door, eyes burning.

—

Leonard glanced at the clock fretfully. The brandy decanter glinting in the setting sun was empty too, he noted. Geordie had taken Sidney to the pub to drown his sorrows hours ago. Which meant he’d be mixing his drinks beyond his beloved whisky.

Just like  _he’d_ always done.

Sidney finally stumbled through the door late afternoon, nearly tripping over Dickens in the process. The Labrador yelped, scurrying off with his tail down.

“Do please be careful, Sidney,” Leonard worried, steadying a vase that was rocking dangerously. “You nearly stepped on the dog.”

“‘m sorry,” he slurred, plonking himself down on the stairs and struggling with his shoes. Leonard knelt down and helped him.

“I know you’re grieving for Amanda-“ he started.

“We can’t all be happy like you Leonard.” Sidney pouted, head against the wall. 

“Remember _Proverb 20:1_ , “Wine is a mocker, strong drink a brawler, And whoever is intoxicated by it is not wise.”” Leonard quoted sagely.

“There’s many things the Bible dis- disapproves of,” Sidney replied leadingly, eyeing Leonard through half closed lids.

Leonard swallowed his hurt. “Yes, well, that’s not a choice...”

“Neither’s needing a drink!” Sidney objected. “You’ve had the odd shandy in your time...”

“Yes,” Leonard said, placing Sidney’s shoes on the rack and standing up. “But I think you’ve got a problem, Sidney.”

“Don’t!” Sidney retorted loudly.

“Yes, you do. But we can get you help-“

“Don’t need help!” he yelled leaning forward, “You can piss off if you don’t like it!”

Those same words.  “You can fuck off if you don’t like it!”

That same acrid stench of beer. 

That same punch?

The room started spinning, and there was a deafening ringing in his ears. Leonard staggered backwards. Blackness was descending before his eyes and he could feel his legs giving way. But he couldn’t faint. Not here. He had to get somewhere safe.

He sucked in a single, shuddering breath and on the second try got the front door open.

“Leonard, wait!” rang out behind him but he didn’t hear it. He ran blindly, not knowing where his legs were taking him until he was knocking frenziedly at the front door of Daniel’s cottage.

—

“Len? What on Earth...?” Daniel trailed off, smile dying on his lips.

As he guided him into the sitting room, his boyfriend’s exhausted pants began to give way to panicked breaths.

“I - I-“ Leonard started, but he couldn’t find the words. He took a sharp breath in, but it came out in a squeaking cough. 

“You need to breathe, love.” Daniel soothed, helping him to sit down and rubbing his back firmly. 

“Can’t” Leonard wheezed finally.

“Yes you can. Slowly, in through the nose and out through the mouth. Close your eyes and focus on your breathing.” Daniel spoke calmly, but his eyes gave away his fear. He squeezed his lover’s hand tightly, free hand never leaving his back.

Leonard shook his head, tears flying, gasping for air. 

“Please, Leonard. Do it for me,” Daniel pleaded. 

But the room was tilting in front of him. The last thing Leonard remembered was Daniel catching him by the shoulders. Then the world was dark.

—

Leonard blinked blearily awake. “Hi there, darling. You’re okay.” Daniel’s reassuring voice drifted above him and his worried face floated into focus. 

The photographer tenderly brushed his hand over his forehead. “You gave me quite a scare. You were hyperventilating and you fainted, Leonard. You were only out for a moment, though. You’ll be just fine.” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles. 

He helped the curate sit up and sip some water, steadying his trembling hands. 

“Give me a second,” Daniel said, wrapping the afghan folded on the arm of the couch around his shoulders and slipping away to the kitchen. A few moments later he returned with a cup of tea and a buttered crumpet. 

Leonard hungrily breathed in the welcome breeze wafting in from the newly opened back door.

“Drink, it’s sweet,” Daniel instructed gently, patting his knee. Leonard took a tentative sip of the warm liquid. 

Daniel waited patiently for some colour to return to his pallid cheeks. “What caused you to panic like that?” he finally asked as Leonard was carefully wiping the butter from his mouth.

“Sidney,” he murmured sadly. “He’s drunk - again - and he got angry when I tried to speak to him about it. It made me think of my dad and I, I,” he gulped, eyes misting over.

Daniel pulled him snugly into his side, and the curate buried his face in the crook of his neck. 

“Take your time, sweetheart.” Daniel coaxed.

When Leonard had caught him up on the events of the last few weeks, Daniel asked, “Why didn’t you come to me? You shouldn’t bottle things up like that.”

“Sidney’s going through a tough time, and it didn’t seem right to gossip about him. He’s my friend - I think,” Leonard said sadly.

Daniel rubbed a thumb up and down his arm. “Oh, of course he is, Len. Look, Sidney is not your father. I mean, we all know he’s got a problem with his drinking. And it’s no excuse for his acting like such a bloody pig. But he’s acting out of hurt.”

“I know. He’s a wonderful person, really,” Leonard sighed. “But it’s making me so uncomfortable, and triggering so many memories I’d rather leave buried in the past.”

“I understand. And hey, maybe this will be a wake up call for him; I’m sure he got a fright seeing you in that state. But you’re not going back there until he’s sobered up. I’m not having you stay anywhere you don’t feel safe.” Daniel said, dropping a kiss to his temple. 

Leonard desperately cuddled closer. “I love you, Daniel.” 

“I love you most. Now, I better go and call Sidney and put him out of his misery. He can bloody well think up something to tell Mrs C.”

—

Leonard stared at his feet, wringing his hands anxiously. Daniel patted his hip. “I’ll be right outside,” he promised, pecking him quickly on the cheek before going to answer the door.

To his credit, the Sidney that appeared before him this morning looked thoroughly crestfallen, eyes wide with shamefacedness. 

“I’m so sorry, Leonard. Truly, I am.” Sidney started. “For neglecting my responsibilities, for everything. But for frightening you, most of all.”

“Thank you, Sidney.” Leonard nodded carefully. “I’m sorry too.”

“Whatever for?” Sidney asked.

“For making snide remarks, for not being more understanding. I should have told you why I was so uncomfortable-“ he swallowed thickly.

“Your father.” Sidney offered.

“Hmm. My father. But you’re not him,” Leonard replied.

“No. I’ll never hurt you Leonard,” Sidney said earnestly.

“You’ve been the greatest champion and friend I think I’ve ever had,” Leonard admitted with a pure smile that made the vicar’s heart soar with hope.

“Brothers?” Sidney grinned. “And not just in the monastic sense.”

Leonard laughed softly. “Brothers,” he nodded.

“Please come home, Leonard?” Sidney asked. “You’ll be safe. Things will change, I swear. I promise you I’ll control my drinking.”

“I’d like that very much. I’ve missed this old Sidney,” the curate confessed shyly, eyes rimmed red.

“Oh, come here,” Sidney murmured, pulling Leonard into a tight hug. And well, he needn’t feel so self-conscious about the stinging in his own eyes if the sniffs coming from the other man were any indication of his affection.

**Author's Note:**

> As someone who is completely teetotal, it’s not difficult for me to imagine Leonard’s discomfort. I just hope I didn’t make Sidney too unsympathetic. It’s my first time writing him so feedback would be greatly appreciated!
> 
> Also, as someone who has had plenty of panic attacks, I still found it weird trying to put it into words so I hope that was true to life!
> 
> Sorry for another soppy ending, it’s all my heart can take at the moment!
> 
> Any prompts are welcome!
> 
> Love xxx


End file.
